


Breathe

by CrimsonWriter



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Grief, PTSD, Roses and Calalilies, survivor's guilt, veteran
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 00:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10910409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonWriter/pseuds/CrimsonWriter
Summary: One man's kindness allows Steve Rogers to keep calm and carry on in this strange new world.





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Children of War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892538) by [charmedward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmedward/pseuds/charmedward). 



Steve knelt in front of his mother's grave, next to his father's. Flowers had already been placed at both, some fresh, some wilting.

He closed his eyes, cradling his single white rose in his big hands. He never knew his father, but his mother…he remembered his mother. Cherished his memory of thin, firm hands cradling his fevered face, lovingly patching him up when he got into scrapes, gesturing wildly in a fury after he got into yet another fight.

He sat back on his heels, his ankles flat against the ground, his head bowed and his breath shuddering in almost-sobs.

The cemetery was peaceful. Sunny. He didn't know how long he knelt there silently, feeling the warmth on the back of his neck and finally letting himself break down for all that he had lost in the company of the memory of his beloved mother.

Someone made a small noise, bringing him out of his reverie. There was a man, possibly late twenties, and his son, who might have been five. One hand was holding a bouquet of calalilies.

The other tilted in an Army-regulation salute.

Steve firmed his jaw. Some stranger did not deserve to have a sobbing Captain America on his hands.

The man relaxed after a moment, making sure that the sentiment carried. He plucked one of the lilies from the bouquet, knelt almost uncomfortably close, and laid it at Steve's knees.

"Thank you for your service," he said, his accent distinctly French.

By the time Steve managed to master his vocal chords, the man and his son were gone.

Steve carefully picked up the flower. He took a deep breath.

He didn't feel better. Didn't feel lighter. Being a superhero hadn't gotten easier. His survivor's guilt hadn't magically vanished.

But he suddenly found that he could breathe. One man's kindness allowed him the ability to carry it a bit better.

He rested his right hand on his mother's stone.

"I'll see you sometime, Ma."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by these paragraphs of the story in the note above:
> 
> "The first Sunday of every month he’ll go spend a morning with them, leaving flowers and updates about his life. He usually ends up talking more to his mother than his dad, but he thinks that’s pretty normal seeing as he can’t remember his father at all.
> 
> Someone else seems to remember Joseph Rogers though, because occasionally Steve will arrive at the graves only to find mystery flowers on both his and Sarah’s graves. It’s no secret that they were Captain America’s parents, but sometimes he wishes the public wouldn’t pry so deep into his personal life. He wishes he could have one thing that’s for him and the people he loves."
> 
> What I would love: this man is a relative of Dernier. Believe it, don't, up to you.


End file.
